In
1998 we were doing, or thought, we were doing the Great Whale River. But
after arriving at the La Grande River, fires forced us to find a new
destination. I had my friend Tim Woods fax me pages from The Rupert
That Was, Heb Evans'
book on his 1964 Rupert trip, and we were ready to tackle the Rupert River
using the Marten River Route.

There
is a gate just north of Mistassini on the road to Lac Albanel. There
is a camping fee for use of the Mistassini Park grounds. We usually
stopped and bought a permit for a couple of nights and were well beyond
the park boundaries by the time our permit expired.

Sadly,
Mistassini was a little rough. Bart and I witnessed a fist fight and
were accosted twice, before 10 AM, by young adults looking for drugs or
booze, and who had clearly already sampled the goods. While not
threatening, the problems of the modern world, heavily supported by road
access, are prevalent in Mistassini.

Mistissini (then
Baie du Poste or Mistassini Post) in 1966.

Photo: Heb Evans

Day
1

We
camped across the channel from the village at their “Cultural
Campground”, a re-creation of the old camp at the Hudson Bay Company
post (frame skogans and teepees), after asking the band office for
permission. The water is no good here so we purchased some from the
Co-op Store. We didn’t put in until noon on the 4th. We had
been unable to shake the road dust and figured a slow start would behoove
us. We actually had breakfast in town where we met the
restaurant’s proprietor. He and I had chatted in years past.
He told me that he had paddled to Lac Nitchequon [aka Nichicun] the
previous summer with some of the teenagers from the village. He told
me, “I cannot forget it now because I have been back to see it.”

The
paddle from Baie du Poste [Mistassini] opens quickly into Baie Abatagush,
which is 15 miles long, about 1/8 the length of the lake itself. We
passed thee camps en route, two on the west shore, and one on a large
island ¾ of the way to the narrows separating the bay from the lake.
The island camp was a family camp with a wall tent that looked inhabited
year round. The first camp was on the west shore at the end of the
channel from the village, just as the bay opens up. The second was a
large “ceremonial” camp on the south shore of the first peninsula on
the west bank (about nine kilometers from the village at the north end of
a long tab-shaped bay). It is well maintained in a clear, grassy
slope surrounded by an open aspen/poplar stand. It reminded me a lot
of the camp at Smoky Hill Rapids, albeit a bit more tamed. My
understanding is that this is the spot where the families of the local
band used to gather, after wintering in the bush, before coming into the
post en masse. It is also my understanding that, at this writing,
the Cree celebrate the coming of summer with a re-enactment of this event,
which begins here with a feast and proceeds like a parade to the village.

We
made camp on the west shore in a sheltered and hidden Cree camp three and
a half kilometers south of the narrows separating the bay from the lake.
It is marked only by a trail leading up through the alders to a small
clearing. This is an easy half-day.

Lake
Mistassini looking north from along the Kasapominskat Archipelago. This is
the start of the "Big Crossing" to the west shore.

Photo: Heb
Evans

Day
2

We
again took a half-day, not because of road dust, but so we could go over
the outfit with the lads. There are three more camps in the narrows,
one on the west shore, one on the east shore, and one on an island on the
west shore. At lunch I realized that I had left my axe. A Cree
named Richard Gunner (who was nearby checking his nets) saw me unload my
gear and start back for the campsite less than an hour away. He left
his nets and motored over and asked if it would be easier if he gave me a
ride. The Cree are the most hospitable people in the world! He
was surprised to learn that we would try the river without a Cree guide.
And more surprised still to hear that Keewaydin had been coming down the
Rupert since 1934 (I can never find my copy of the Keewaydin Way when I
need it). Keewaydin of Dunmore, Vermont has been paddling the Rupert
for many years as well, and part of their tradition is to hire a
Mistassini guide to go down the river with them. Keewaydin of
Temagami had never hired a Mistassini guide. I would imagine that
Richard was mistaking us for our Vermont cousins.

We
reached the pass between the last two barrier islands in the Kasapominskat
Archipelago (my notes say “the pass below Ile le Veneur,” but I
don’t know where I got that, and Ile le Veneur is also the name of an
island in the braids on the Eastmain above Lac de la Marée, so…) early
in the afternoon. The wind was calm and the lake like glass.
The west body of the lake extends 20 miles to the south and 60 miles to
the north here (give or take). Therefore weather, and especially
wind, are extreme concerns. One does not want to be caught even a quarter
mile off shore in a wind. The crossing is five miles at its shortest
point. This could be reduced to three miles by tracking to the south
and using some small islands. The Bear and the Loon were with us and
the weather held, but for a brief sunshower midway across.

We
met more Cree fishing at the far end 35 minutes later. Due west of
the pass is a long, shallow, “tab-shaped” bay. We found a camp
in the second bay north of this. It was small, and mostly we camped
on the shoreline that had been exposed by the low water. In higher
water this would not have sufficed as a campsite. A better bet would
be to paddle 10 kilometers further on to the next deep (star-shaped) bay
where we saw two camps. There is also a camp in the long shallow bay
two kilometers further north.

[1]Heb Evans, The Rupert That Was, The Highway Bookshop, Cobalt, Ontario,
1978, 219 pp. Follows the 1964 Keewaydin Rupert River trip. Available from
Highway Book Shop
or call 800-461-2062.